


A Course to Your Heart

by ztarplay_fics



Category: Chinese Actor RPF, 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Boys Kissing, Delivery Boy Zhan, Just for good feels because I'm feeling cuddly, M/M, Motorcycle Racer Yibo, Romantic Fluff, Slice of Life, Yibo is smitten, wangxiao au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:48:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25328818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ztarplay_fics/pseuds/ztarplay_fics
Summary: Yibo is a motorcycle racer. Zhan is the delivery man he just can’t seem to get off his mind
Relationships: LSFY - Relationship, Wang Yi Bo & Xiao Zhan, Wang Yi Bo/Xiao Zhan, WangXiao - Relationship, YiZhan - Relationship, bjyx - Relationship, zsww - Relationship
Comments: 23
Kudos: 238





	A Course to Your Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by an anonymous manip of delivery boy Zhan and racer Yibo. [MANIP HERE](https://twitter.com/Ztarplay_Spazz/status/1284013664647778304)

The raving motor and summer air pounding against his ears drowned the enthusiasm of the crowd. On days like this, where the pressure was high and his temper unkempt, Yibo preferred it this way. The season had started with disappointment. Even though he had managed to stay in the top ranks and move forward, concerns had been expressed over his corner speed; too often led by breaking too late and not being able to lean on the curve enough. His timing was usually impeccable, leaving little doubt. His mind was not on the track, cause for the media’s speculations to run wild.

It angered him to think of it. What did they know about his state of mind? But it angered him even more to know they were right about one thing; his heart was just not in it this season.

In the eyes of others, he had risen to fame quickly. He went from unlikely rookie his first year, to champion by the second. Now on his fifth year as a racer, even with a massive onslaught of endorsements and thousands of voices screaming his name, it somehow didn’t seem like enough.

Today Yibo finished in third and it was going to have to do. The heat and hunger were getting to him.

“Delivery!” shouted someone entering the paddock tunnel. “Delivery for—Wang Yibo?”

Yibo followed the voice but didn’t move, choosing instead to let the man come to him. Even though he sat on his motorcycle no longer wearing his suit, covered by a cap and equally black sunglasses, he was certain the logo of his crew and his name plastered everywhere would give him away.

Sure enough, he wasn’t wrong.

“I hope you don’t mean to eat all of this by yourself” the man joked, raising multiple bags with take-out containers. His smile was brighter than the sun. Yibo almost smiled back but was interrupted by the swarm of the crew, ready to rid the delivery man of his burden. When it was over, the poor man looked like he had just been sacked for his money. “Woah. You’re a hungry bunch, aren’t you?”

“How much do I owe you?” Yibo asked calmly.

“Cash or card?”

“Card.”

“You can pay with the app then. No hassle.”

“Mhm.”

Yibo expected him to leave. Instead, the man stood there, still looking at him. He had no idea why or what to say. So, he said nothing.

“Yibo? Can I call you, Yibo?”

“Mhm.”

“Hi, I’m Zhan.”

_Zhan. It suited him somehow._

“Aren’t you going to eat?” Zhan continued.

Yibo shrugged, not looking up from his phone.

“If you don’t hurry, they will be nothing left.”

“It’s fine.”

When he heard no response in return, Yibo rerouted his attention.

Zhan’s nose scrunched cutely, letting out a huff before looking around the paddock. Suddenly, Yibo watched him walk away and head straight for the mechanic, who he didn’t notice still held a half full bag of containers until Zhan procured one and returned with a wider, more brilliant smile.

“Here you go. You should eat.”

Yibo was stunned. Utterly and completely stunned. He didn’t even manage a _thank you_ before the man waved his goodbye and left yet again. This time, not coming back.

Three days passed until the next race. Three days he spent thinking about a curiously sunny smile that lit up his dreams. When he was finally back on the course, Yibo was anxious to finish the race as quickly as possible and didn’t hesitate to make it happen. The deafening screams of his crew congratulating him as he rode into the pit barely registered. Not even the white flashes from the press blinded him enough to block his way back into the paddock, where they were forced to stay just outside the boundary.

Determined to hear the man’s voice, he picked up his phone and dialed the number he had already engraved into his memory. Yibo knew it would be Zhan who would answer. Having stalked through the restaurant’s weibo account in the last couple of days, he also knew it was a family owned business managed by a mother and son that had been recently renovated to fit three sit-in tables, and an added menu of trendy drink selections made-to-order just like its famous southern cuisine.

“Xiao Recipes,” Zhan sang on the other line. “Let us know what you like and we will bring it to you!”

Still anxious, Yibo placed his order quickly and hung up.

An hour passed. The podium ceremony and countless interviews happened before it dawned on him, he had not only won the race but set a new personal record. By the time Zhan arrived with the massive order, it was a frenzy of flashes and pleas for just another minute of his time.

Zhan spotted the trophy by his bike almost instantly. “Hey, you won! Congratulations!”

This time, Yibo made sure to return the smile and didn’t miss how it took the other by surprise. “Thank you. Everyone is very excited about it. But I’m starving.”

Resuming his usual temper, Zhan handed him a smaller bag that clearly only had one container in it. “I put in extra dumplings with our special recipe. You gotta try it!”

“Eat with me.”

This time, Zhan’s smile didn’t pause. “Sorry?”

“I’m unable to give you a proper review if you leave again before I try it,” Yibo teased. “Stay. Have lunch with me.”

Feeling fairly proud of himself, Yibo led them to a table just out of the press’s sight and dived right in. Starting with the special recipe.

Unfortunately, that was a mistake. The spice snuck down his throat before he even swallowed, and pushed out of his nose in the most unflattering display of disgust he had ever felt himself do. A coughing fit followed soon after and he wasn’t able to hold even the slightest semblance of grace.

Acting quickly, Zhan tracked down a water bottle. “No to spice. Noted,” he said laughing. “I’m so sorry.”

Beet red from embarrassment and unable to face him, Yibo could only gulp down the water; yet the sound of Zhan’s laughter somehow made it all better. When he finally washed it all down, Yibo led his gaze straight through, sharp and with intention, back to Zhan. “Make it up to me,” he said coolly. 

Zhan’s laughter only grew.

Twice, thrice, until Yibo lost count of how many times he had used the same excuse to call Zhan.

Zhan always answered, and always came.

But it wasn’t until the season was over, Yibo resolved to go to him instead. On a cool Sunday morning, he stepped into Xiao Recipes looking much better dressed than on any given day; wearing fitted black brand jeans, a matching trench coat and just a splash of color with a collared paled turquoise shirt underneath. He had furthered the look with brand accessories; platinum earrings and sunglasses.

Instantly, Yibo found Zhan behind the counter, looking rather cute in a red oversized sweater he had to fold up to his forearms, and a bright yellow apron hanging from his neck.

The smile that welcomed him widened the moment Zhan realized he recognized the person at the door. “Bo-Di!”

Yibo rushed to the counter. “You promised me a special mochi.”

“I did” Zhan replied, nodding. “Are you hungry though?”

“Just for dessert.”

“Aya! Are you getting cheeky with me, little friend?” His tone was aghast with outrage but his smile never faded.

“I’m not that little,” Yibo replied with a wink.

Shaking his head, Zhan rolled his eyes. “One mochi special, coming right up! It’s imported. Very delicious.”

Yibo watched him prepare the mochi with all sorts of confections he wasn’t sure he would be able to stomach. Zhan had often joked he had the taste buds of an old man. Surely, any small shock would not be much of an offense. Hell, Yibo was almost certain Zhan teased him on purpose anyway.

Before the other could come around to join him, Yibo sat at the table farthest from the door and took a minute to absorb the details. The place was small, accommodating maybe fifteen people at best, yet despite its size it was far from dark. The walls and bar top were white, matching the shelving behind the counter, to allow daylight coming in from the front window and bounce in every direction. Additionally, fairy lights hung from across the ceiling for when the day darkened. All three tables were lined against the opposite wall. Light solid wood tabletops balanced the sunflower-yellow fabric lining the benches and chairs. Small touches like fresh flowers on the tables, the shelves of cookbooks on the wall, and a cute bunny logo that popped up in random corners made the place look modern, but also quite whimsical and warm. 

“One strawberry mochi special with cacao nibs and just a slight dusting of coffee powder,” Zhan said taking the chair across from him. “It looks like it would be overly sweet but the mochi flour is plain and the strawberry is tart. Promise.”

Yibo took one bite and hummed. “Delicious!”

“Wash it down with this white tea and it will be an equally stimulating experience every bite.”

Zhan watched him eat about half the desert quietly before Yibo couldn’t take it anymore and shoved a spoonful into the other’s mouth too. “This is not how this is supposed to go. You’re my customer!” he complained rather demurely.

Yibo leaned forward, making a show of licking the sugar from his own mouth. “But if I get full, how am I supposed to enjoy the main course?” he asked lowly.

Placing his chin over his palm, Zhan pouted. “I thought you said you weren’t that hungry. I haven’t started anything.”

When he stood and was about two steps away, Yibo had the nerve to stop him, circling his long fingers around Zhan’s forearm. Zhan paused long enough to allow Yibo to pull him down onto his lap. Noticeably shocked, Zhan didn’t move.

Internally, Yibo was screaming. This man, this beautifully charming man he had been admiring for months was finally within his grasp, and he wasn’t going to let go. Yibo kept them both stable with one arm cradling Zhan’s shoulders. Free to touch with the other, he tapped the full of Zhan’s bottom lip lightly. The soft warmth caught on his finger like the embers of a growing fire. It warned him as much it tempted him. In that moment, Yibo realized if he moved forward, there was no going back. He only hoped Zhan would feel the same.

His heart skipped, beating a mile a minute as he leaned in and stopped just shy of Zhan’s lips. All the while, Zhan’s eyes never left his. But Yibo could feel his breath falter. He beamed, closing the distance with little more than a peck.

One. Two. Three fluttering kisses, each time braving a little further into the other’s mouth.

Their eyes closed and the world opened, a world where Zhan’s plea came in song, steadily thrumming between them. And when Zhan’s tongue finally reached his, a hot arrow shot straight to Yibo’s heart and his fingers hurried around the crook of Zhan’s neck, desperate for more; more kisses, more contact, more songs, and more of his tender sweetness. He wanted everything and anything Zhan would give.

Somewhere in the far-off distance, Yibo heard the sound a familiar bell. But it wasn’t until a surprised cry came from the door and Zhan struggled to push himself up that it dawned on him, they had been interrupted.

“Well, it’s about time!” said the woman, smiling in triumph.

“Ma! You’re early!”

“I think I’m perfectly on time. Who’s this?”

Immediately realizing who he was meeting, Yibo stood and bowed. “Wang Yibo. I’m—”

“Oh, I know who you are. You’re the boy that’s had my son acting like a lovestruck idiot for the past four months.”

“Ma!” Zhan was just about ready to fall to his knees. “Please,” he begged.

Yibo couldn’t help but smile.

“Fine. Fine. Are you staying for dinner, Yibo?” she asked with a smile much like Zhan’s.

“No!” Zhan let out quickly.

“No?” she questioned incredulously.

“I mean, we are going out—for dinner—somewhere else.”

“Like a date?” she egged on.

Zhan’s eyes grew wide. “Ma!”

Stuck as a spectator, Yibo watched the exchange quietly, feeling the fluttering in his stomach multiply when Zhan nodded. “Are you asking him, or am I?” he rebuked.

She laughed, dismissing his complaint with a wave. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Yibo. And please, don’t mind me. I’ll be here until closing. Take him for as long as you wish.”

Feeling his cheeks rise, Yibo smiled wide and thanked her before watching her disappear behind the kitchen door. “Your mom is nice.”

Zhan’s expression turned sour. But there was no real spite behind it.

Yibo shrugged, audaciously. “So where are you taking me?”

“Far, far away!”

**Author's Note:**

> For updates and general spazzing, follow me on Twitter [Ztarplay_Zpazz](https://twitter.com/Ztarplay_Spazz)
> 
> DO NOT REPOST. For translation requests, please message me.


End file.
